


Starry Night Eyes

by alicelittle



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fantasy, M/M, Romance, mentions of depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-29 20:49:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12093156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alicelittle/pseuds/alicelittle
Summary: Kyungsoo is the boy in the painting and one day, Jongin appears.





	Starry Night Eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [convexxed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/convexxed/gifts).



> First of all, thank you to all my friends for always holding my hand through everything and thank you to my bubba for being my stardust. 
> 
> Dear recipient, without you, this story would not exist and this story was written because you're a strong and beautiful person. We don't know each other but i've been gazing at you from afar like you're a star in my sky and I'm always wishing you the best. 
> 
> Thank you to the mods for being patient and for doing their best in bringing 2017 KSMR to us along with other writers who has brought us their beautiful stories and their talent! :>
> 
> Finally, thank you if you read this story and I want to sincerely apologise for how lacking it is. It is rushed and it is far from what I'm happy with but I promise that I wrote this story with my heart and so I hope you will enjoy it even a teeny tiny bit! There's a lot of references to Van Gogh and symbolism sprinkled throughout the story too! :>

The moon is a pearl earring in the sky whilst the stars are dancing amongst the clouds on this starry night. Freckles of gold are speckled within his vision, dancing in the pitch-black sky of Kyungsoo’s orbs, twinkling with fascination like the phthalo blue and ivory white swirling through the world in turbulence.

 

The breeze caresses Kyungsoo’s plump cheek, thick lips trembling as the wind gifts him a kiss. Kyungsoo’s body is royal red and blue in the bundles of his blanket; chin tucked low whilst the wooden chair beneath him groans with his every movement. From the vantage point of his arch window, Kyungsoo chases after every constellation, his eyes toing and froing every patch of beauty that blends into the midnight sky.

 

The Greek dog Laelaps trails behind its master Orion, along the Canis Major in summer and further along Kyungsoo’s line of vision is Cassiopeia with her heavenly beauty chained to the sky, signifying the coming of fall and early winter. Seasons are not fixed here and nor is time. Everything blends together here in colours like a living creature, a motion picture, a painting that breathes with life and wonder.

 

Splaying his fingers across the parchment paper like wings, Kyungsoo sets his imagination free into the wilderness of the darkness. Akin to ivory keys that dance to the beat of his heart, the tick-tock of the clock chains Kyungsoo to his seat. Time flows like the blood that rushes through his veins, blind to the naked eye yet he feels it pulsing through his world with every fibre of his being.

 

Art is not straight lines and smooth edges, evident through the crooks of his fingers and his knobby knees. Art is not perfection and nor is human. Art is introspective much like the way the Clair de Lune reflects itself upon the glassy river. Art is appreciation for every crack and flaw that has pieced something together. Kyungsoo has been pieced together just like this by his creator with the endearing crooks of his fingers and his knobby knees, the shimmer of his porcelain skin and beguiling owl eyes.

 

Kyungsoo loves his creator for every fragment of the world that he lives in and the world living inside him with every inch of his being.

 

With love and care, a pencil gently rests in Kyungsoo’s grasp. Cradling his creator’s imagination within his vision, Kyungsoo captures his love through the manoeuvrings of his instrument, graphite scratching along parchment. Even behind closed eyes, Kyungsoo can picture the glow of the chapel; feel the benevolence of the moonlight that falls upon the houses of families, education and justice. Even the Canis Major that flickers within the sky is representative of his creator’s fondness for dogs, the man’s fascination for Greek mythology with the Gods and Goddesses that live amongst them in marble statues, standing tall and proud. Along with a shivering emerald ocean where Icarus had fallen from the sky, enveloped by the gentle indifference of the world.

 

Tender and slow, a picture blossoms under Kyungsoo’s fingertips like the almond blossoms that branches through the sky and pierces the cold air in bursts of lily white. Unravelling like a love letter uttered lowly and slowly like a prayer, sung like a song to his creator’s ears where the drawing before Kyungsoo lies. Dot-to-dot like the swirling skies, even the cypress tree curves along with the cosmic waves, yielding to the gravity of a creative mind.

 

Art is appreciation and this is Kyungsoo’s token of appreciation, pivoting and magnetic like the beautiful world woven by his creator’s imagination. Vivid brush strokes is how he was made but even then, life seeps through him. As a heart of gold that shines like the luminous stars, like the ichor that flows through the veins of gods is how Kyungsoo was made.

 

Kai is no god.

 

Yet everything is beautiful because of Kai’s existence.

 

-/-

 

The café terrace at night tinkles with laughter, shadows falling upon the pavement like dust under golden lanterns, casting halos upon the crowns of their heads. Chiming with their words, the glossy figures move like paper mache through the atmosphere, not a sound to be heard from their moving mouths. Kyungsoo’s ears are attuned to the voice of the singing flower girl whose basket remains filled to the brim with roses, soaked in a rich red – as intense as the emotion it evokes – whilst she skips merrily up and down the pavement.

 

As always, the flower girl would jump to stand before him with a grin from ear to ear on her cherubic face. The popsy conjures a rose with a raised hand, which Kyungsoo accepts with the flutter of his chest. Chin tucking into his woolen scarf, Kyungsoo’s eyes flutter shut like butterflies that gravitate towards the rose’s fragrance. The rose ensnares his senses before he tilts his head up skywards to the starry night sky. The flower girl bids him goodbye with the curtsy of her tippy toes and as always, the note attached to the flower reads –

 

_To my love,_

_Kai_

 

The mere name is enough to knock Kyungsoo over his centre of gravity.

 

Kyungsoo orbits Kai like a planet to the sun yet the world that Kai has created solely revolves around Kyungsoo, the _lover_ within this abstract world. The moonlight rains down upon him wherever Kyungsoo goes, perfectly round and full like a penny for his dreams. The peacock waves its languid tail all night, its tail littered with _the eyes of the stars_ for the beautiful boy who lives in the painting.

 

Warmth buzzes underneath Kyungsoo’s nerves; his cheeks ever so rosy like the crimson scarf that’s looped around his slender neck - evoking the essence of Kyungsoo’s existence. The colour of blood and fire, passion and desire.

 

Kyungsoo’s eyes crinkle into crescents, heart crumbling like pastries by the sidewalk where he stands alone. Kyungsoo basks in the romantic solitude of the night, nighthawks whisking pass his presence in a flurry of dizzying colours. The rose paints the scene in a vivid red where Kyungsoo stands by the bend of the street, cheeks dusted with cotton candy pink and other things that make him breathless - mouth dry like cotton.

 

The world is like a tangible dream. Yet Kai is untouchable like a burning star, the world remaining in impasto. The whirls of colour are thicker than blood, sinking deep into the canvas in varying layers of vitality. With his senses overwhelmed by the flourishing colours, Kyungsoo can only trace the faintest notes of sandalwood in the air. More often that not, the sound of his breathing was much too loud in his ears.

 

Heels tapping along the pavement in a staccato clack, Kyungsoo slides into the comfort of a downtown diner. Kyungsoo’s eyes never meet the other patrons, the brim of their hats pulled low to their brow ridges, a queer shadow falling upon their face like a veil. In a world where time flows seamlessly, cyclically like the swirls of the sky, continuity is the only order to be found.

 

Engaged in their muted conversations, never-ending like the steam rising from their coffee cups, continuity is the modus operandi of a world where paint endlessly bleeds in new colours.

 

Once seated, Kyungsoo extracts a sketchbook from his trench coat. Baring its contents upon a table surface, he twirls a pencil from his breast pocket.

 

Through the motion of his pencil, his mind explores the moment.

 

The way the light spills onto the sidewalk from the diner’s plate-glass windows, the sepia that diffuses through the scene like a swirling cup of coffee where we lay our scene on the chiaroscuro midnight streets where tenebre meets moonlight. It’s a favourite pastime of his to recapture the world of the painting from different perspectives. Kyungsoo is small but he still reached for the stars. The drawings are far from perfect but perfection is not what Kyungsoo searches for at all. Kyungsoo only vows to capture the beauty of the moment. True beauty cannot be described with words but can only be felt. That is how Kyungsoo feels, living in the world of a beautiful mind. Capturing every special moment before it leaves Kyungsoo behind.

 

Thumbing the crisp pages, Kyungsoo gingerly leafs through the sketchbook – refreshing his memory like applying a fresh layer of paint, eyes glossy as obsidian orbs absorb tender sketches and incisive notes once more.

 

The leather bound book is engraved with the name _Kai_ in golden, iridescent letters. A myriad of sketches litter each page - grooves and scratches of ink – black on white. Akin to the breeze that slithers along mahogany branches, Kyungsoo’s nimble fingers flutter across the parchment in a familiar caress.

 

Goose bumps rise along his flesh as the pads of his fingers trace along the skies of landscapes at the _Château Noir_ , along the sea when the sun kisses the horizon at the _La Grenouillère._ Constellations were mapped out, dates and names jotted alongside the margins. Vast landscapes stretch along a myriad of pages like the endless stretch of the sea, the endless canopy of the sky. Words accompanied sketches of a personal nature – _4/11 By the talismans of love –_ underneath clusters of starry-shaped asters, spirals of stars that echoed Kyungsoo’s world.

 

The depth, the geometric beauty of the pieces had struck him with a sense of deja-vu. An epiphany had struck him like lightning when Kyungsoo first found the notebook within his trench coat. Perturbed by the weight on his chest, Kyungsoo had removed it from its confines and roamed his eyes all over it. Like the pieces of a puzzle, everything fell into the right place when he flipped it open.

 

Kyungsoo possessed a bright mind; one that differentiated familiar faces from familiar places. Phantoms of darkness, they were found where one would expect a tree to cast its long shadow, where one would expect the moon to be hung in the sky. They were distortions of humanity, long stretches of darkness looming over the landscape with their disconnected eyes.

 

Kyungsoo would wander through the town, the valleys and where angels feared to tread – whilst others remained lost in their thoughts, riveted to one point in time. Muted conversations with the curl of their lips, the merry skipping of a girl who never tripped over - they blended seamlessly into the background, deep in their repose. As though they were caged by the shot of a photograph, stuck to a painting that has dried on its canvas yet continues to tremor with life.

 

Kyungsoo would catch a gleam in their eyes, murky whirlpools of oils on canvas. A surreptitious smile lingers on the surface of their impenetrable dispositions. However not one person ever responds, merely sparing him a meaningful glance before they would tilt their heads skywards. No matter where they were, they would all gaze at the seductive, enchanting, intoxicating starry night sky.

 

Beneath the same sky, illuminated by the same moon, the world was breathtakingly beautiful and Kyungsoo ceased to ponder the meaning of their existences for a moment. As everything was the way it was meant to be. Kyungsoo did not dare to disturb the beauty of the universe.

 

Until Kyungsoo found the world within the pages of a sketchbook that belonged to _Kai_ , spine bended and pages tattered yet remaining intact. A beautiful mind unravels before his eyes as he travels through vast landscapes, sketches that bewitched the eyes with the harsh and gentle lines of an ageing soul. Portraits were rare yet they were all executed with care, as though the artist had primed their canvas with love and painted their subject in their mind with the brush of their lips.

 

Yet the few portraits that Kyungsoo found were all of him.

 

Wide owl eyes, lips rosy and soft like petals, mouth stretched wide into a heart-shaped smile. Crooked fingers and knobby knees, fuzzy eyebrows furrowed and a red woolen scarf coiled around his neck.

 

_Kyungsoo._

 

Kyungsoo was speechless, hands trembling as he clutched onto the sketchbook. He willed himself to turn to the final page before the world felt like it would fall beneath his feet. It is there where Kyungsoo finds himself standing underneath a starry night sky, head tilted skywards whilst others in the background gazed upon him. All of their eyes were on him, the centre of Kai’s world.

 

_Kai is his artist and Kyungsoo is his art._

 

The gentle curve of Kyungsoo’s crescent eyes gleam like the moonlight, glassy with tears as the sonata of his pulse ripples through him. Heart stuck in his throat, Kyungsoo brought the book to his chest – tears silently pouring from his eyes. Kyungsoo hugs the book to his body as close as he could until he could feel the pounding of his heart pulsing through it in waves. Retching out lungfuls of air, heartache thrummed through his body like the colours of a hazy nightmare.

 

Tears sit on the edges of his eyes. Drop by drop, among the rocks they shine in the darkness surrounds him. Teardrops light up the way step by step in the abyss of Kyungsoo’s mind. Behind his clenched eyes, the sky was blood red, thicker than blood as it rushed through his veins. The scream of nature passes through him and all that’s left after that is rust and stardust.

 

Kyungsoo explores the realm of the painting like an artist himself, dissecting the pages of Kai’s sketchbook night after night. Kai is an enigma and yet Kai is (presumably) his lover. In Kyungsoo’s dreamless nights, he dreams for a hand intertwining with his, souls bound together like the pages of a sketchbook. Kyungsoo wonders if he could ever draw Kai like this, wonders if Kai watches over him like the brilliant stars do. Kyungsoo wonders if Kai is alive but basks in the comfort that Kai is immortal through his art.

 

Kyungsoo leaves the diner briskly like the wind, clasping the sketchbook shut and pats it where he slides it into his breast pocket. The book serves as an anchor of sorts as he ambles through the boulevard where Kai’s palette dips into a sombre mood, pirouetting through the painting in autumn hues.

 

Kyungsoo treads along a hill on the outskirts of the village, breathless as he stands before the celestial beings of the night. Kyungsoo could barely believe his eyes, drinking in every detail as he approaches a river that lies ahead. The water is tranquil, a calming midnight blue and the moonlight cascades down upon it like spirits dancing along the water’s surface. Kyungsoo kneels before the riverbed, fingers dipping into the water and feels a hungering gentleness deep within it.

 

The hungering gentleness awakes him like a flower slowly opening up its petals. Kyungsoo’s eyes then gently flutter shut, head rolling back onto the soft ground, blades of grass tickling his skin as he lays spread out.

 

Kyungsoo wonders if Kai is hidden amidst the crowd of stars. If so, then Kyungsoo imagines he could only wish for Kai upon a shooting star to be beside him. However there is nothing he can do because Kyungsoo is the boy who lives in a painting and there is no God to promise that wishes came true.

 

-/-

 

A bitter coldness biting his skin awakes Kyungsoo in the night. The blistering wind creeps under Kyungsoo’s skin and he buries himself deeper into his coat where he lies on the ground. However, the warmth that his nut-brown trench coat once offered has now grown cold and unfamiliar in a shade of mysterious pitch-black. Kyungsoo widens his eyes, fear rattling the chamber of his heart as he digs through the coat’s compartments, in a search for what he held most dear. The uncertainty that his coat has gone with the wind disappears when his fingers dance along the familiar bulk of Kai’s notebook.

 

The wind’s sudden temper is bewildering and Kyungsoo gasps when he tilts his head skywards. The starry night sky has grown violent. The stars swirled in dizzying, warped patterns and Kyungsoo could not will himself to gaze at the sky for another moment. Even the power of the moonlight is weakening, patches of darkness swallowing up the world around him in obscurity. As though a demon has crept into the tranquil world and disrupted order, wreaking havoc as the world dims with its dark force. Kyungsoo is all of a sudden lost and scrambles to his legs, returning to the town as fast as he could.

 

The disconcerting ambience of the world causes Kyungsoo to stagger in his steps, feeling his movements blur whilst the colours around him became sticky like webs. When Kyungsoo sees the townspeople, the shadows upon their faces were darker than he had remembered. They appear unnatural as though they were out of their element, a foreign aura surrounding their stilted movements. Familiar elderly men on the sidewalk possess limbs that were reminiscent of wiry branches, bare as their leaves have fallen, ominous with their inscrutable countenance in the night. A familiar child clings to one of their arms yet the twinkle within their eyes has faded and the lustre of his once silky golden hair has become dull like straw.

 

Kyungsoo catches the flower girl within his sight but her steps are sluggish, as though her feet were pushing through piles of snow. The braids upon her shoulders have lost their bounce and he gasps in horror when her knees buckle and a wicker basket of white roses fall to her feet. Kyungsoo helps her to rise and a grip clings tightly to his red scarf when he shakily accepts the white rose in her hold. The youth turns around with her head hung low and when Kyungsoo reaches out for his hand, time slips in between his fingers, as all too soon she becomes a dot in the distance.

 

Utterly confused and in utter despair, Kyungsoo’s breath hitches as he reads the note attached to the rose.

 

_To my love,_

_Kai_

The notes are Kyungsoo’s only source of reassurance that everything will be okay. Even when the sky eats up the stars, as they gradually disappear one by one and only a few sparkling stars remain. Yet they fuel his willpower, staying strong even when everything feels like they’re falling apart as even the stars are fighting with all their might to shine for one last time. The stars were like scattered moon dust in the sky, beacons of hope and even when he shuts his eyes,

 

Time is slower than Kyungsoo once thought as he struggles to find sleep. The blistering cold is much too harsh for the soft strokes and gentle colours that he’s made of. Even when his bedroom window is shut tightly and he is curled up in his blankets like a tiny cocoon, his mind is unable to take flight into the realms of his subconsciousness. Kyungsoo’s prevailing warmth are the sketches within Kai’s sketchbook that has been burned a million times into his memory. Kyungsoo holds it tight in his embrace with the glimmering notion that perhaps, once upon a time, Kai has held it to his own beating heart.

 

Whoever Kai, wherever Kai is, Kyungsoo knows that Kai is the reason that he’s here. With all of these notes, attached to an infinitum of roses, Kyungsoo wants to believe that no matter what, Kai loves him. Even if Kai is not here and the world that Kai has created for him slowly disappears, Kyungsoo believes that Kai still has love for him.

 

Everything is dying in slowing motion, the colours are fading and the people are withering. Kyungsoo realises that everything and everyone fears change and that maybe, he fears it the most of all. Kyungsoo walks through the painting and revives every inch of it with his memory. The sketchbook is laid out in his palms like wings that brings his mind to everywhere he has been, remembering how everything use to be.

 

But Kyungsoo knows it is the world that he loves and Kyungsoo knows it is the same for others who remain where they are. They don’t know what’s happening except that their world is slowly changing. They can only wait for the stars to shine again. The stars are not dead but somewhere far away and their light will return someday. Maybe new stars will be born, stronger and brighter. Maybe Kyungsoo just needs to hold onto the world that he loves a little tighter. Kyungsoo is more than a part of the painting. The painting is a part of him.

 

He will never let go of it.

 

-/-

 

Kyungsoo sits by the café terrace. At night when all the light they cannot see lights up the world. The starry night sky drowns in a malady whilst the flower girl’s singing voice has lost her melody. It is hard to tell whether the sky is still breathing much less the other patrons, waiting with bated breaths in their pregnant pauses of conversation. Kyungsoo wonders if he is changing as well like everyone and everything else. Kyungsoo is staring at the portraits Kai had drew of him when suddenly a shrilling cry pierces the cold air.

 

Kyungsoo’s jolts, shaken from his stupor by the sound of life. The first he has ever heard besides from the murmur of the river and the whisper of the wind, a sound that travels through him until it carries him with it. Kyungsoo finds his way through the midnight streets with a desperateness he has never felt before. Kyungsoo hears the voice once more, crying in defeat and Kyungsoo yearns to find the voice even more.

 

There is the taste of salt in the air, akin to the salt of the sea. A hungry sea that gnaws at his ankles and washes over him like a tidal wave as he finds his way to a brand new world. At the end of the street, Kyungsoo finds people he has never seen before crowded around a hunched figure. In colours of dried blood, their bodies are smudged like bruises, clenched fists painting the downtrodden boy in their violent hues. They hear Kyungsoo approach and they disappear into the shadows like wilder beasts.

 

The tapered moonlight falls upon the wounded creature, a bronze boy in a red waistcoat.

 

Kyungsoo hears the pounding of his heart rather than the tremble of his voice as he utters a soft, _“Hello?”_

The landscape ripples with the tremor of his voice and there’s a tingling in his spine that reaches his toes. The boy flinches, meaning he could hear Kyungsoo’s voice.

 

The latter approaches him like a wave crawling to the shore, tasting the saltiness of the boy’s pouring tears, soothing the boy with the gentle hush of his voice. Kyungsoo wants the boy to know there is nothing to be afraid of even though he is fearful himself.

 

The boy is all sharp angles and harsh strokes. Kyungsoo couldn’t take his eyes away even if he tried. The boy did not carry Kyungsoo’s softness yet the shuddering boy looks so heartbreakingly delicate where he lies. The boy is on his knees, forehead pressing to the ground as though he’s praying to the skies and Kyungsoo’s heart skips a beat, like stones skipping across a river.

 

The boy slumps over in defeat and Kyungsoo rushes to hold onto him.

 

Kyungsoo’s hand presses onto the smooth, solid muscles of the boy’s back and a pleasant warmth seep through his fingertips. It is foreign yet not unwelcoming despite of the jagged edges of his figure. Slowly, the boy turns to meet Kyungsoo’s imploring gaze. There were shadows beneath the boy’s bloodshot eyes. Plush lips quivering like the tears falling from his beautiful orbs, wide with fear and God forbid the things that the boy has seen with them.

 

Kyungsoo struggles to find the words to say, opting to stay by the boy’s side until everything is okay. Even if “okay,” is a blurry prospect, he figures that being next to the boy like this is more than enough.

 

Kyungsoo shrugs off his trench coat, draping it across the boy’s shoulders. The boy pulls the coat closer to his frail body like a second skin but then peers up at Kyungsoo, noticing the way the latter’s lips are darkening into purple hues.

 

The boy’s chattering teeth bite into the fabric and Kyungsoo curls his red woolen scarf around both of their necks. Their bodies are huddled close, knees touching and hearts quaking. The air is raw and tender, much like the boy’s voice when he stutters, “T-Thank you.”

 

Kyungsoo blinks, awestruck by the timbre of the boy’s voice whose presence is steadily warming up beside him. Kyungsoo wonders if the boy is a figment of his imagination. When he looks at the boy, he wonders if this is how one feels when they see the sun rising for the very first time.

 

Kyungsoo’s attention gravitates towards the boy like a flower to the sun, soaking up every detail like the mahogany tufts of hair that stick up in all directions. The temptation to pat the strands down nips at his fingers but he likes the way the boy’s hair has a life of its own. The boy’s lashes flutter gently, chest rising up and down sporadically as he breathes in deeply.

 

“Who were they?” Kyungsoo swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down his throat. Kyungsoo wonders if the boy has a name, if he had a home.

 

“They are monsters,” the boy says, looking him straight in in the eye now. There is a gleam within the boy’s eyes akin to the twinkle of the stars, like the light you would see at the end of a tunnel. Far away yet there, somewhere –

 

“Monsters?” Kyungsoo echoes, eyebrows furrowing together like a pair of fuzzy caterpillars. The boy nods and Kyungsoo frowns, “What do monsters look like?”

 

The boy gazes at Kyungsoo intently, eyes wandering along the curves of his face. Within the short distance between their bodies, the boy raises a hand and slowly yet surely traces a gentle line along the side of Kyungsoo’s cheek. Kyungsoo’s heart skips a beat and time stops. All of a sudden he finds it hard to breathe. Kyungsoo wonders what emotions are colouring the boy’s eyes as his hand drops unexpectedly.

 

Kyungsoo wonders why looking at the boy is just like gazing at the starry night sky.

 

“Nothing like you.”

 

“Can monsters be drawn?” Kyungsoo inquires and amusement traces the boy’s features.

 

“I…” the boy takes a moment to take in a deep breath, “I’ve been running away from my monsters for a long time but strangely enough, I’ve forgotten what they look like.”

 

“Maybe it’s a good thing you don’t remember what they look like,” Kyungsoo proffers, unable to comprehend the underlying tone of the boy’s words yet he felt the boy’s fear. Reminiscent of Kyungsoo’s fear that the world of the painting is slipping away from the things within it and maybe for the boy, it’s his frame of mind as insecurity glazes his eyes.

 

The boy smiles softly yet there’s a tinge of sadness within his voice, “But they haunt me still.” The boy sighs and the air he breathes from his lips kisses Kyungsoo’s skin, “But I don’t think monsters exist in this world.” The boy looks up to the starry night sky, “Maybe they just exist in my mind.”

 

“In your mind?” Kyungsoo feels the urge to follow the boy’s eyes yet he’s unable to take his eyes away.

 

Kyungsoo is like a lonely pilgrim in the desert who has now found another soul like his. After being lost in the eye of a sandstorm for so long, spinning and losing direction, it feels like fate has carried the boy to him. Two kindred spirits in a world that’s slowly losing its own mind. Kyungsoo has never felt lonely yet he has always been alone but that is no longer the case when the boy’s head gently rests on his shoulder. Kyungsoo has always been small but now he wishes he had broader shoulders. A pair of broader shoulders for the boy to lean on as for some unexplainable reason, he can feel the boy’s loneliness.

 

“Our minds are our painting and we paint our minds,” the boy says meaningfully yet Kyungsoo fails to catch it, “But I don’t think the mind is a trustworthy place.”

 

“Why so?”

 

The boy grins. Pearly white teeth on display and eyes crinkling in a playful way, “Our minds are quite the trickster. It brings us to strange, strange places sometimes.”

 

“If what you say is true, that our minds are _quite the trickster_ \- Maybe your monsters are weaker than you thought and you’re stronger than you think you are.”

 

A chuckle resounds in Kyungsoo’s ears, “You’re right, maybe I should just get out of my mind. Although I’m not quite sure how I can do that,” and the boy sounds genuinely confused. The boy taps the side of his head with a pout on his lips, “It’s all inside here, you know. Somewhere in the back of my mind, they just crept up on me one day. Out of nowhere and it’s scary to think where they had come from.”

 

_It’s scary to think where they had come from,_ Kyungsoo agrees, from where they had appeared out of the blue and vanished into the darkness. They were undoubtedly large as they loomed over the boy, trapping him in their clutches.

 

“But it’s okay, I will bend but I will never, _never_ break,” the boy whispers with absolute resolve. More to himself than anybody else and a tiny smile creeps on Kyungsoo’s lips. The boy’s heart is pure even though his mind is wandering to _strange, strange places._ Kyungsoo holds onto an inkling of hope that the world of the painting will bend but never break too.

 

Kyungsoo decides to bring the boy back to his home where they can rest. The boy is sputtering and stumbling over his words as he shakes his hands, “N-No, I wouldn’t want to be a bother. You already saved me – “

 

“Where else can you possibly go?” Kyungsoo cocks an eyebrow.

 

“I can just sleep on the streets!”

 

“You say I saved your life, does that not mean you owe me one?”

 

The boy firmly nods, “Yes, I do.”

 

“Well you can return the favour by walking me home.” The boy looks pleased to do so until Kyungsoo strongly says, “And stay with me.”

 

The boy deflates, eyes downcast when Kyungsoo suddenly rises to his feet. “W-Wait!” the boy flounders as he attempts to cover the both of them in Kyungsoo’s trench coat. The latter is already shivering in the cold yet his heart soaks with warmth as the boy’s fingertips linger on his skin. The boy’s sharp features recede with a flicker of uncertainty when his hands move away nervously. However Kyungsoo catches them with his palms, nudging the boy’s chin near and whispers into his ear,

 

_“Please don’t leave.”_

 

Insecurity colours Kyungsoo’s voice and the boy washes it all away as he breathes, “Okay,” then gently repeats once more, “Okay.” The boy gulps, doe eyes glistening like an innocent child.

 

They walk side-by-side, step-by-step along the sidewalk in tandem and that is when Kyungsoo sees the boy smiling behind the scarf, covering up his scrunched-up nose.

 

“What is your name?” Kyungsoo softly inquires, in between the beat of their steps through the midnight streets. The townspeople’s eyes latch onto their every movement, as they remain fixated to their shadows. The boy and Kyungsoo are the only ones who can move freely in this world along with their thoughts yet deep within Kyungsoo’s stomach, he could feel their thoughts wandering too like ghosts. They were all like a cage of butterflies.

 

“J-Jongin,” the boy responds and the butterflies in Kyungsoo’s stomach chases after the warmth of his voice.

 

_Jongin._

Kyungsoo tucks Jongin closer by his side and shines to him a gentle grin. Jongin noticeably softens, melting into the soothing motion of Kyungsoo’s hand intertwining with his. Their palms press together and Kyungsoo doesn’t want to ever let it go. The touch is foreign yet the warmth is familiar. Like the feeling of coming home, from whatever far away place this boy had came from.

 

Kyungsoo familiarises himself with the tenor of Jongin’s voice and the latter plays with the syllables of Kyungsoo’s name that bounces off his tongue. Jongin’s palm is trembling and Kyungsoo does not know why. Kyungsoo merely holds onto it tighter until their steps grow lighter, approaching the doorsteps of Kyungsoo’s home.

 

However the world crashes upon him when Jongin begins to sway on his feet, his breathing sharp but beautiful eyes losing their focus. Kyungsoo catches Jongin before he could fall, fingertips skittering along the boy’s waistcoat that’s wet and blotched with darker shades of red. Kyungsoo is horror-stricken, the tremors of life that ebbs away from the boy’s body seeps through him like adrenaline.

 

Jongin’s body sprawls along the bed. The colour of blood induces a pounding in Kyungsoo’s head. The latter rushes to dip a cloth in a bucket of water and his nimble fingers shed off Jongin’s wrecked attire. A trembling hand strokes Kyungsoo’s wrist and clasps onto it gently. His breathing is the only thing he could hear when they lock eyes. Kyungsoo’s heart drops like his stomach when Jongin weakly mutters, “I’m o-okay.”

 

Kyungsoo slowly kneels before Jongin and places a palm over Jongin’s hand. Jongin’s eyes are crystal clear, body stock-still like a deer. Time slips through their fingers as their hands intertwine. Kyungsoo’s eyes never leave Jongin’s when he forlornly whispers, “But you’re _not_ okay.”

 

Jongin takes a deep breath, “I don’t think I’ll ever be okay, Kyungsoo…” and sobs are retching out of his chest before Kyungsoo knew it. Jongin weeps like he’s drowning and his cheeks are burning where Kyungsoo cups them in his palms. Their foreheads meet as the tips of their noses kiss. Kyungsoo holds onto Jongin tight, falling into his softness and their limbs curl into a warm embrace.

 

“Everything will be okay, Jongin. Just breathe, breathe for me.”

 

Jongin buries his nose in the crook of Kyungsoo’s neck where he takes a deep breath. Jongin could feel Kyungsoo’s pulse through his delicate skin. Kyungsoo smells like freshly plucked flowers by the windowsill and the soothing aroma of a finely brewed cup of tea. The way Kyungsoo’s hair tickles his nose is like the dip of a brush into water, the breeze that flutters the curtains. Kyungsoo is like home and Jongin had lost his.

 

A chuckle left Jongin’s lips and it tastes bittersweet in his mouth. “I’m lost, Kyungsoo. I’m hopelessly lost.”

 

Kyungsoo murmurs desperately, “If you’re lost, we will find a way, Jongin. Just don’t lose hope.”

 

“Hope?” Jongin mockingly repeats, “ _Hope_?”

 

“As long as you have hope then things will be okay.”

 

Jongin gulps, “But what if there’s no hope? What if all hope is lost?” Jongin’s hands curl into fists like his wrists were shackled to the fear that smothered his nerves, draining away the glimmer of hope in his eyes. “Kai abandoned me. He doesn’t have hope anymore, Kyungsoo,” and his eyes bleed with hot tears.

 

It sets Kyungsoo’s heart ablaze as he pulls away and stutters out, “K-Kai? You know Kai?” Jongin turns his head away guiltily. Kyungsoo forgets how to breathe, a million questions weighing on the tip of his tongue. “H-how, w-who is –“

 

“Everything here is what Kai has lost,” Jongin says mournfully with hiccups in between. His voice is fragile like glass that has shattered into shards of glass that pierce Kyungsoo with every word, “He lost you and he lost me.”

 

Every beat of Kyungsoo’s heart is painful. When one door closes, another door opens but it feels like a million fists are pounding upon his heart. Kyungsoo clutches onto Jongin’s shoulders, his only anchor.

 

Kyungsoo is drowning but he is not carried by waves. Kyungsoo is falling but darkness does not envelop him. The world is dying but Kyungsoo is still living, Jongin is still fighting. They are lost but they haven’t disappeared yet.

 

“B-But who are we?”

 

_“You’re his love.”_

 

There is still love.

 

_“And I’m his hope.”_

 

There is still hope.

 

Even though everything hurts.

 

-/-

 

Time heals all wounds but how long does it take for someone to find something again?

 

Jongin told Kyungsoo that Kai was sick. Kyungsoo had asked what was Kai’s sickness. Jongin merely pointed to the starry night sky with a forlorn gaze. The symptoms of Kai’s sickness permeated the world of the painting in holes of darkness that swallow up the stars.

 

_Depression_ , Jongin had said.

 

A picture is worth a thousand words and everything Kai says, Kyungsoo listens even when the world has grown cold and silent.

 

There are times when Jongin is reserved and times when Jongin is open. There are moments when Jongin is cynical and the shades of the night sky deepen into darker hues of sorrow. Whilst there are times Jongin’s orbs glimmer with hope and it looks like there are snow-white stars in his eyes when he gazes at Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo is slow and patient with Jongin because Kyungsoo will give all his time to heal Jongin’s wounds.

 

Even when slumber does not welcome Kyungsoo into its chamber, Kyungsoo ensures that every night Jongin is tucked warm into bed. It is far too cold for Kyungsoo to find sleep but Jongin has experienced much worse. The only thing that keeps Jongin awake is when he would mutter in a small voice, “Kyungsoo? Why aren’t you sleeping?”

 

Kyungsoo feigns rest when he curls up besides Jongin, giving the latter the peace of mind he needs. A face of thunder fades away as Jongin slips into soft clouds of slumber. Yet the grip on his hand never dwindles with the fear that they will inevitably disappear one day like the lost stars.

 

Before the world disappears, Kyungsoo falls in love with the world again. Yet this time, he is not alone as Jongin and him fall in love with the world together. They watch the stars sprinkle across the hazy sky every night when they rise. Kyungsoo would gift every rose he receives to Jongin and he would never fail to watch Jongin read the notes attached to them.

 

_To my love,_

_Kai_

“B-But these are for you,” Jongin said.

 

Kyungsoo gently smiles, “You’re a part of Kai, Jongin and…you deserve love. Kai loves you because you’re a part of him. He can never live without you.” 

 

Jongin had been hesitant as insecurity nipped at his nerves like thorns. But Kyungsoo would pull Jongin towards him and let the latter's cheeks bloom in the palms of his hands as he whispers, "Love yourself." 

 

Kyungsoo and Jongin would sit by the café terrace at night where Kyungsoo would question, “It’s always night.”

 

Jongin would smile and say, “Isn’t the night romantic? The sight of the stars…they make me dream.”

 

Jongin’s smile would still linger even when he is saddened by the sky that’s slowly losing its magic. Yet Kyungsoo’s bright and beautiful eyes never fail to cast a spell on Jongin’s heart. Kyungsoo never wants Jongin to forget the sight of the stars as they lie underneath the sky, connecting stars into constellations as their hearts intertwine. Kyungsoo never wants to forget how Jongin loves the starry night sky. As they bask in the moon's wings of light, Kyungsoo wonders if Kai is looking at the stars somewhere. 

 

Jongin’s eyes light up with wonder when he sees the Greek dog Laelaps running across the sky, chasing it with his eyes like a child would. Their worlds collide, as Jongin would tell Kyungsoo stories while Kyungsoo would show Jongin his drawings. They stand before the sea where Icarus fell from his glory and dip the toes in the water that kisses the seashore. The splash, the forsaken cry whilst the world sailed calmly on.  

 

Jongin became a part of him and every word that Jongin strings together serves as a thread of hope for Kyungsoo to cling onto. The twinkle within Jongin’s eyes is Kyungsoo’s silver lining. When they embrace, they are like caterpillars wounding up their cocoons in threads. When the new world opens up, they will spread their wings and play among the stars. It is inevitable that they fall in love as they were broken pieces, healing one another by filling in the gaps that has been left behind.

 

To Jongin, Kyungsoo is hope. When Jongin draws Kyungsoo for the very first time, Kyungsoo knew. The eyes are the windows to the soul and Jongin is the most beautiful soul Kyungsoo has ever seen.

 

Together, underneath the starry night sky, they open themselves up to the gentle indifference of the world. It begins with the brush of their noses and the giggles that erupt from their chests. Dipping into the slide of their plush lips and their mingling breaths, breathing fast while they kiss slowly. They have never felt so alive as the world slips through their fingers, running their hands through . The night is far too beautiful to let go just like the boy in their arms as Jongin whispers, “ _Please._ ” Kyungsoo finds Kai in Jongin’s passionate touches that make him dizzy with desire. Jongin finds love in the way Kyungsoo whispers his name like he has been lost and found.

 

Every touch is burned into the recesses of their minds until they burst into flames, crumbling in their bliss. They see beautiful colours they’ve never seen before behind their eyes when they find each other in the darkness like star-crossed lovers colliding for the very first time.

 

-/-

 

For the first night in countless nights, Kyungsoo rises and whirls to his senses like the starry night sky that swirls in vibrant hues.

 

The world awakens with him yet to his bewilderment, Jongin is not beside him. Kyungsoo’s feet thump against wooden panels like his thumping heart as he searches for his lover. Yet when he steps through the threshold of his door, a brave new world greets him.

 

The night is brighter than he had remembered it and it would continue to shine brighter as stars blossomed like asters amongst patches of the midnight sky. Whilst sunflowers, lavender and poppy fields sprung through the earth. Along the sidewalk, the flower girl stands still in awe, a myriad of blossoms tickling her nose as they breathe with life. The world flourishes with all the colours of the wind and Kyungsoo feels like he is reborn again as raindrops fell from the sky for the first time.

 

A beam of light passes through his soul and he shines brighter than all of the stars in the sky combined. The light of the stars soaks right through his bones. The moon is a pearl earring in the sky for him to reach and there are tears of happiness on his cheeks.

 

People are running in the rain, throwing their hats in the air and laughter is tumbling from their lips as they rejoice. It’s a brand new night as they dance beneath the moonlight.

 

Jongin is gone and hope has returned to a beautiful mind where flowers bloom and the stars shine.

 

The world soothes his ache with the gentle pitter-patter of the rain. He closes his eyes and is reminded of the gentle pitter-patter of Jongin’s heart.

 

Lost is a lovely place to find yourself and Kyungsoo smiles because Kai has found himself. Only in the darkness can you see the stars and it is only with the light in our hearts that we can feel the darkness. Jongin is no longer by his side but he will always be in Kyungsoo’s heart. He buries himself into his red scarf as he cries, clutching onto it like the red string of fate.

 

For now, Kyungsoo will watch the growing flowers and the healing stars.

 

For now, Kyungsoo will stay here because love is the spirit that motivates the artist’s journeyand Kai is all the reasons of his being.

_Kai is all the reasons._

 

Kyungsoo tilts his head skywards, gazing at the starry night sky, knowing he will always dance in Kai's colour and reflect in his light as Jongin is his horizon and Kai will always paint Kyungsoo’s sky.1

 

 

One day, Kai will find him too.

 

 

-/-

 

There is a painting of flowers on display, showing how the beauty of nature is transient whilst the beauty of art is timeless. The flowers are withered at the tips of its petals yet it stands tall, bravely facing the light of the sun. Beneath the artwork, the name _KAI_ is inscribed. The man traces the letters with his fingertips, knowing well that he is not allowed to touch the art but even then, he feels it with his heart.

 

It has been years since he’s been in Seoul but it feels like home nevertheless. This is where his heart belongs, where it rests on an artist’s sleeve that spills into every touch that carves his body. Paris has long lost its warmth. It is a summer in his heart whenever Jongin is near. Jongin has always likened him to the moonlight. “Moonlight is the proof that there will always be light in the darkness,” Jongin had said whilst Jongin has always been like the sun in his eyes, with his blinding smile and sun-kissed skin. A child of the sun, Jongin loves Kyungsoo like the sun that never fails to rise when the new day comes.

 

He whispers, “Are you ready?” The arms around his stomach tighten like rope to an anchor. Jongin has always said that he is like the gravity of the moon that causes the rise and fall of his heart. Jongin has always been an explorer, hopeless romantic and a dreamer, which is how they first met in the city of love. Together they fell in love with Paris and they fell in love with each other. The heart does not know of distance in their long-distance relationship because whenever they thought of each other, the miles between them would disappear.

 

Yet today, his thoughts are not the only things with Jongin but his heart and body too as Jongin holds onto him tight. It has been months since Jongin’s mother passed away and the art exhibit is in remembrance of her. Months of sweeping all the bruised petals away, months to find himself again.

 

Jongin replies with a shaky breath, “I don’t think I will ever be ready.” Jongin turns him around so they’re face-to-face, heart-to-heart. “But with you by my side, I believe that everything will be okay.”

 

They will piece him together again. The days that pass with the sun will fill the cracks of his heart with gold and the nights that pass with the moon will wax and wane the pain. The pain will dry like paint until it’s no longer wet with tears. Together they will paint Jongin’s canvas and find the beauty in life again.

 

He is the moon and Jongin is the sun and before the two eclipse into a kiss, Kyungsoo whispers sincerely against Jongin’s lips,

 

_“I will never let you go.”_

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! If you made it to the very end, I want to sincerely thank you from the bottom of my heart. I am truly sorry that the story turned out like this and I promise to re-write it sometime in the future! Kai is lightly inspired by Van Gogh and there are references to his paintings or those that influenced him. I'm really sorry if I disappointed anyone and once again, thank you to all my friends, your support meant the world to me. Feel free to leave a comment, I will love you with the intensity of a thousand suns and dear recipient, thank you for everything! Once again, I hope you enjoyed it even just a teeny tiny bit. I love you. 
> 
>  
> 
> (1) - Reference to Hayley Kiyoko's Palace which is a really fitting song for the story! It's also a very beautiful song, give it a listen!


End file.
